


Fret Not, Dear Heart

by StitchNLich (GallifreyanAtHearts)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, they just love each other okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanAtHearts/pseuds/StitchNLich
Summary: Geralt thinks he may lack proper instincts, somehow, the ones that tell humans that something will hurt them, if they are not careful, if they do not disengage and retreat.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 204





	Fret Not, Dear Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This sprang up fully formed around one line. The quarantine yearning is getting to me, I think, but hey, I'm writing again, and it is just as terrifying as I remember it. The mortifying ordeal of being known and all that. Title from The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil, because of course it is. I'm on tumblr at koshertaako

Geralt finds the bard’s fear… motivating, in an odd way. He’s infinitely attuned to the smell of it, it drives him into action like little else does.

He notices it at moments he finds strange, when the man seems to be projecting perfect confidence. He thinks Jaskier is never frightened enough when Geralt fails to prevent him from coming into contact with monsters, creatures, things, and people that should truly frighten him.

Geralt should frighten him. He does not understand why he doesn’t, but it never comes, Jaskier never flinches, never shies away, never shows any sign that he recognizes the monstrosity in Geralt. Geralt thinks he may lack proper instincts, somehow, the ones that tell humans that something will hurt them, if they are not careful, if they do not disengage and retreat.

Even the first time that Geralt has accidentally allowed Jaskier to see him, his blood coursing toxic, his eyes black…

Geralt had smelled fear then, and he had wanted to feel relief, that he could stop waiting, barefoot on broken glass, for Jaskier to finally hate him like the rest, relief that he could stop hoping it would never happen. But he had not felt relief. He had felt like his whole being was a rotten tooth, exposed and raw and agonizing. He had looked away, preparing for whatever would come, whether Jaskier would vomit, or run, or even just flinch.

But instead he had felt Jaskier’s fingers on his cheek, tracing the stained veins. Geralt’s next breath had come shakily, as the bard’s delicate touch continued.

_ “Are you okay?” _ Jaskier had asked.  _ “Is this… normal, for you? Or do you need help? What can I do?” _

And Geralt had realized that under the bitter scent of fear was caring, tender compassion, and he had understood that the bard was not afraid  _ of _ Geralt, but  _ for _ him.

And so when the bard  _ does _ feel fear, when Geralt detects the sour odor of it, of panic and sweat, he wants to make it  _ stop _ . He wants to remove whatever is causing it. He wants to make Jaskier feel  _ safe _ .

Making Jaskier safe rarely seems to include killing monsters, more often requiring nothing more than the reassurance of his presence in tense situations. Geralt reluctantly finds it hopelessly endearing, finds himself nearly addicted to the heady scent of relief as it floods Jaskier when he approaches. He can see it too, the relaxation of Jaskier’s posture and expressions when he catches sight of Geralt, so hopelessly open that Geralt can not explain away the unusual fact of Jaskier’s seeming preference for his presence with outside coincidence.

Even when Geralt lashes out unforgivably, hurting Jaskier in a way that makes him truly feel as monstrous as witchers are meant to be, he does not smell Jaskier’s fear, only his pain. 

When he apologizes, awkward and tentative, unfamiliar with such things and  _ feelings _ , Jaskier is unafraid of him, and Geralt cannot help the feeling of his own unworthiness, with which he has much more experience, but never like this. Jaskier’s forgiveness is divine, and more than ever, Geralt needs to  _ protect _ him, make him safe, cherish him in the only way Geralt understands how.

It turns out, however, that he understands  _ nothing _ .

Understands nothing when the bard threads his fingers through Geralt’s own, understands nothing when Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt’s chest, sighing and oozing contentment, understands nothing when he tilts his face just so towards Geralt’s.

Geralt convinces himself he does not understand. Tells himself he sees nothing, expects nothing, that he has no schema, no frame of reference for Jaskier’s confounding behavior.

Jaskier should be afraid of him.

Jaskier is never afraid of him.

Until he is. Until the bard forces Geralt to understand, with the softest ghost of a kiss at the corner of his mouth, his hand on Geralt’s cheek, and before Geralt can respond, or move, or speak, the room fills with the odor of fear, of terror, and the bard is no longer projecting confidence. Geralt feels exposed, whipped, he feels angry and sad. He feels ill.

“Why now?” The words tumble impetuously from his lips. The tactile memory of Jaskier’s kiss makes them tingle. The smell of sour sweat makes him nauseous.

“Geralt, I’m sorry- wait what?”

“Why do I frighten you now? Anything any sensible person should be afraid of, you’re not. You’ve never been afraid of me, not even- You should be scared, should always have been scared. Why now?”

Geralt is frightened of Jaskier. Afraid of his answer, scared that he has lulled Geralt into undeserved security all these years, and is now going to break Geralt as no one has ever had the power to do.

Jaskier looks at him, sees him. He touches Geralt’s face.

“I’m afraid you won’t want this.” The bard’s voice is quiet, hoarse, thick. “I’m afraid you won’t want  _ me _ .”

Geralt wants to make Jaskier feel  _ safe _ , for him to never smell of fear again. He wants to chase it away, smell him,  _ see _ him comforted.

Geralt understands how to do that, now. He is rewarded with the rich scent of Jaskier’s relief when he presses his mouth over the bard’s.

Geralt understands why the bard is not afraid of him. Understands that the bard has no room for fear in his heart because it is so filled with-

_ Love _ .


End file.
